


Thunderstorm

by Fu_Dragon



Category: Kung Fu: The Legend Continues
Genre: Angst, Drama, Gen, Pre-Series, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-23
Updated: 2011-10-23
Packaged: 2017-10-24 21:29:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/268092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fu_Dragon/pseuds/Fu_Dragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A walk through Kermit's mind. Tough mercenaries also suffer. Pre-Series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thunderstorm

A bright blaze of lightning zigzagged across the evening sky, lighting the firmament with its spidery patterns of light. Heavy, looming clouds looked like they were in flames. The air was thick with static electricity, and made the hair on Kermit's arms stand on end. Another blinding flash slashed through the night, followed immediately by ear-piercing thunder. The skyline of the city looked dark and threatening due to the rapid shift of darkness and light, not that Kermit noticed much of it.

He didn't even flinch at the next deafening clash of thunder. All he knew was that the swirlingmaelstrom outsidematchedhis mood perfectly. He stood motionless in front of the large window and looked over the city, not in the least bit intimidated by Mother Nature's temper tantrum.

Out of the blue, the mercenary raised his fist and shook it heavenwards. "GOD DAMN IT!" he shouted out of the top of his lungs. A few seconds later, his hand dropped to dangle limply at his side, as if an invisible force had sucked all energy out of his arm and he resumed his staring at the raging world outside.

The next series of flashes and thunder made the windows rattle in its wake. Heaven opened its floodgates and rain lashed down outside like torrents of bitter tears. Within seconds, smaller and larger pools of water formed on the terrace, reflecting the lights of the raging skies.

Kermit felt something wet on his cheeks. For a moment he wondered if one of the windows had broken and caused rain to pellet his skin. Then he realized it was his own tears that produced the sensation. Like a never-ending stream, they ran down his face, soaking his white shirt.

Remembering the reason for his tears, pain sliced through his body with razor-sharp claws, ripping at tender muscles and tearing out his gut. He doubled over as if it really happened, coming to rest on his knees, and gasped for air.

"No. God, no! Why him? Why not me?" he whispered.

With hands balled into tight fists pressed against his stomach and chest, he fought to regain his composure, but the fury and pain wreaking havoc with his heart didn't leave himalone. Now, the whitish streaks of lightning started to hurt his eyes. And the rumbling thunder hitting his ears drove tiny pinpricks of glowing needles into them. Finally, after another futile effort to wade past his inner torment, he gave up and passed out on the floor.

When Kermit regained consciousness, the thunderstorm had eased and the first light of the wee hours of morning started to bathe his hotel room in a warm, golden glow.

Kermit moaned and took a shuddering breath. His teeth started to clatter due to the coldness of the ground that seeped through his clothes and into his bones. He had trouble even moving a hand, let alone rubbing it across his throbbing forehead. Slowly, he realized he was still lying on his stomach on the ground, his right shoulder pressed hard and uncomfortably against the tiled floor.

His hazy brain had trouble with coordinating the movements of his limbs and arms. It took nearly a superhuman effort for Kermit to get his stiff muscles working again. Using the wall for support, he managed to get to a kneeling position. The effort left him gasping for air, and he leaned against the solid support of the window sill to calm his erratic breathing. Despite the chill of his body, beads of sweat formed on his foreheadand trickled down his face. Some ran into his eyes, the salty moisture burning the delicate area. Kermit blinked to ease the stinging, too worn out to wipe it away.

It can't be true. It's just some damned, freaky nightmare.

Closing his eyes, he kept repeating similar thoughts. It's a nightmare, only a nightmare. Wake up, Griffin.

Oddly enough, he felt much better after repeating those phrases countless times in his mind, but then he made the mistake of opening his eyes again. He caught sight of a big poster on the opposite wall.'Welcome to Florida, the Sunshine State' was written in bold letters across a beach scene.

Kermit's inner torment returned with such force, it made him gasp. The poster swam out of view as a sudden wave of nausea hit him hard. Bile rose up his throat and he swallowed convulsively. Somehow, he managed to get up and stumbled into the nearby bathroom.

Just in time, he reached the john and opened the toilet lid. Before his legs gave way, he knelt over the porcelain bowl, heaving what little he had in his stomach in violent thrusts. After an eternity of painful retching, he rested his head on the cold edge of the toilet, his right hand groping for the handle to flush the rotten-smelling contents of his stomach away.

It took Kermit several deep breaths and a very determined mind to get back on his feetagain. He swayed and clutched the edge of the wash-basin in a one-handed death grip for support. Using his free hand, he turned the faucet on. He splashed the cold water onto his face and drank some of it, hoping to get rid of the bad aftertaste in his mouth.

The water didn't help much, so he took a chance and let loose of the sink. He blindly reached for the toothbrush and toothpaste and started brushing his teeth vigorously. At least, this was a task he carried out every day and he hoped to gain a little bit of control back by performing something normal.

The mercenary sighed in relief when the peppermint flavor replaced the foul taste on his tongue. Actually, he felt a whole lot better now. He even managed to straighten slightly.

Kermit pulled up his head and looked into the mirror. A ghostly white picture of himself reflected back at him. Unkempt, wet hair splayed in unruly waves around his head. His burning eyes lay deep in the eye sockets. The puffy black rings surrounding them accentuated the taut skin stretching over his hollow cheeks, giving him a forlorn appearance.

My glasses. Where the hell are my glasses?

The ridiculous thought seemed very important all of sudden. Kermit averted his gaze from the mirror. He didn't like what he'd seen in the polished glass at all, so he didn't want to risk a second glance. Instead, he looked around frantically. He needed his armor, those green tinted glasses, to shut out the gruesome world from pressing in on him. But where were they?

Then he remembered. He'd thrown them onto the nightstand as he'd returned from….

Ice cold fingers of dread crept up his spine. His knees buckled again and it seemed like the entire hotel room was swirling around him.

Holy shit, it's true! It's true…He's gone! He's really gone!

The sunglasses didn't matter anymore. They still rested on the nightstand where he'd thrown them after…

…after identifying the dead body of his younger brother, David.

Kermit drove both fists into the mirrorin a sudden rage. The glass shattered into a thousand pieces, just like his soul had shattered when the coroner had pulled back the white covering to reveal David's pale and lifeless face. A facetormented even in death.

Kermit didn't feel any physical pain as two shards from the mirror dug into his flesh because the mental anguish was so much worse. A tidal wave of despair, unbearable agony, and loss washed over him, overwhelming him. He wasn't able to fight against the onslaught of emotion that followed.

The mercenary crumbled to the floor in a heap, giving in to the heart-wracking sobs and staggering guilt that overcame him. There was no avoiding the truth. Kermit felt a huge part of himself die with that knowledge. David was dead. The older brother had let his younger brother down and he'd never forgive himself for not being there to rescue David from Larson's wrath.

David was deadand there was no bloody way in hell to bring him back to life. No way at all. He couldn't help David any longer, but maybe he could find some peace for his beloved brother by finding his killer. Yes, Larson would pay dearly for his crime.

That last thought gave Kermit the motivation to move, but it didn't bring any comfort along with it. Not much could. Not now that David was dead. Vengeance might bring closure, but it wouldn't do a damned thing about the ache in his heart, an ache that would probably never go away.

The End


End file.
